


you just have to want something and let yourself have it

by musiclily88



Category: One Direction (Band), Shawn Mendes (Musician)
Genre: Fluff, Halloween, M/M, corn maze, they're in love do not question it, whatever fam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 08:48:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21116006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musiclily88/pseuds/musiclily88





	you just have to want something and let yourself have it

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cherrylarry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrylarry/gifts), [sweet_disposition](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweet_disposition/gifts).

> Yes, I aM citing that auto-complete interview and various other interviews in which Niall has talked about Shawn. Why do you ask.  
Pretend Niall’s not taking a sober October or whatever, okay, otherwise this is vaguely canon
> 
> This is deeply self-indulgent and neither of the people whom I gifted this to actually, like, even asked for it.

“What—what are you wearing?” Shawn asks, tipping his head to the side.

“It’s sweater weather. I’m wearing a sweater.”

Shawn rolls his eyes. “Don’t call it a sweater on my account. You can call it a jumper if you like.”

Niall flaps his arms, the sleeves of his sweater covering both his hands. “But then I couldn’t say I have sweater-paws.”

“Niall.”

“Yes?”

“Niall.”

“My ears work.” He smiles. “Do like hearing you say my name, though.”

“That sweater is about four times too big for you.”

Niall sighs, shucking off the sweater, revealing that the only thing he’s wearing underneath is a tight black t-shirt, collar cut low so that his chest hair shows.

Shawn’s eyes go wide.

“Better?”

“I mean. Kind of.”

“I’m gonna get cold.”

“I’ll—”

“If you say you’ll keep me warm instead, I will bottle you in the face.”

Shawn’s jaw drops and he throws his hands into the air. “Someone’s in a mood.”

“I’m not—”

“We don’t have to go to the corn maze if you don’t want to,” he insists, his voice so earnest that Niall’s teeth almost ache with it.

“It’s fine!” Niall says, tossing his sweater back on, his hair askew as he pops his head through the collar. “Let’s go!”

Shawn exhales slowly, the right side of his mouth curling up. “All right.”

“What? I’m not scared!”

“You know it’s just a corn maze and not, like, a haunted house or something.”

“Do they have cider there, or do I have to bring my own?”

:

“You under-sold this a bit,” Niall says, handing Shawn a beer before taking a sip of his own.

“How so?”

“It’s not just a corn maze, it’s like. A whatsit. A Halloween pop-up.”

Shawn smiles, shrugging slightly. “Yeah, photo opportunities abound.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And I hear you’re a model.”

Niall licks his lips, raising one eyebrow. “Where’d you hear that?”

“Literally from you,” Shawn says, shoving a curl off his forehead.

“Did you hear I’m a hunk, too?”

“I follow you on instagram, so. Yeah.”

“It’s almost like you love me or something.”

“Or something.” They clink their bottles together, and Shawn bites his bottom lip over a smile. “Shall we?”

“Let’s do the feckin thing,” Niall agrees, throwing one hand into the air.

Shawn shoves at his shoulder, heading towards the entrance of the corn maze. “Keep up with that kinda language and I won’t take you to the pumpkin patch.”

_ “There’s a pumpkin patch?” _

“Aren’t you just the essence of innocence.”

“Feck off.”

There is, indeed, a pumpkin patch. Shawn laughs at the look on Niall’s face, bending over slightly as he slaps at his leg. “We should really do the maze first, bro.”

“What, why?”

“I don’t want to lug around a heavy pumpkin when we inevitably get lost.”

“Bold of you to assume we’re gonna get lost.” Niall takes a sip of his beer. “Plus, I’d carry your pumpkin for you, y’know?”

Shawn flares his nostrils, shaking his head once. “You’re one-of-a-kind.”

Rather than replying, Niall takes another sip of his drink.

“Did you bring a flashlight?” Shawn asks as they enter the maze.

“It’s like five pm.”

“It’s gonna get dark eventually.”

“Mate, if we’re in the maze that long, I’ll send up a warning flare like in Harry Potter. Like them red sparks and shite.”

“So, you’re saying this is the Goblet of Fire.”

“Sure.”

“Am I Harry or Cedric?”

“Feck off.”

“Or Fleur, maybe?”

“You can’t even speak French.”

Shawn hip-checks Niall into a row of corn. “Gryffindor all day long, my ass,” he mutters, laughing as Niall staggers to the left. “Race you!”

“Race _ where?” _ Niall calls, making sure he doesn’t spill his beer.

Shawn does a sharp right at the next juncture before darting right again.

“I’m not chasing you!”

“You sure are!” Shawn cries over his shoulder, laughter warm in his voice.

“Christ.” Niall necks at his beer again, setting off behind Shawn with just a moment’s delay. He nearly runs into a small child and her mother, pivoting around them at the last minute. “Sorry, sorry!”

He finds Shawn at the third turn, still laughing slightly, one hand on his hip. “You’re a dick,” Niall says, huffing out a breath.

“Yeah.”

“Everything I’ve learned about Canadians is a lie.”

“Um. Probably, yeah.”

Niall lunges forward, slapping a hand on Shawn’s arm. “Tag! You’re it!”

Shawn yells out loudly, chasing Niall after a beat.

He bodily runs into Niall’s back, because Niall’s stopped short in the middle of the corn-row.

“Ow.”

“Do—do you see that?” Niall asks, pointing forward towards the darkening sky.

“I see corn.”

“No, I mean—that.”

Shawn tips his head up, considering. “I dunno. No?”

“You don’t see that,” he follows up with, eyes narrowing.

“Are you messing with me?”

“There’s a fucking—what is that?”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s floating!”

“Okay,” Shawn responds slowly, nodding. “Right.”

“No it’s—right—”

“Are you scared?”

“No! Of course I’m not scared.” He pauses, furrowing his eyebrows. “Who gets scared of floating objects?”

“I—wait.” Shawn balks, looking into the sky.

“Or—flying objects?” Niall screams, grabbing Shawn’s arm as he starts to run as bright lights move directly towards their heads.

“Not me!” Shawn yells, ducking down as he yanks Niall sideways. “That’s for sure!”

“Adorable!”

“Do you want to go home?”

“I want to be anywhere but here!”

They run directly into the corn stalks, pushing aside the plants as they run.

“This is ridiculous!”

“Probably!” Niall agrees as a corn stalk hits him in the face, lashing against his cheek.

“Babe. You’re hurting my arm.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Niall loosens his grip, taking a heaving breath.

“You’re really freaking out.”

“Kinda, yeah.”

They break into the open air, Niall still catching his breath in big gasps. “You’re okay, you’re fine,” Shawn says, clapping his back. “It’s gonna be fine.”

“Yeah, okay. Okay.”

“No, I mean, it’s gonna be fine because it’s a prop.” Shawn points, releasing Niall’s arm entirely.

“Wait, what? Fuck.” It’s only then that Niall notices that the flying-saucer-like thing is attached to a zipline. “That’s embarrassing.” He takes a moment to catch his breath. “At least it’s not a drone. Them feckers are unpredictable. It coulda dive-bombed me, a drone.”

“They’re notorious for that, I hear,” Shawn says, patting Niall on the shoulder.

“Are you aware that you’re the worst.”

“Oh, yeah.” Shawn plants a kiss on Niall’s temple. “I’m aware.”

They head to the fortune-telling caravan next, presumably because it’s right by the exit of the corn maze.

Niall clasps Shawn’s wrist, moving them forward with purpose. “Whoa, slow up,” Shawn says, stumbling over his own feet. “I’m tripping here.”

“Madame Zerina waits for no man,” Niall counters, voice cutting low. “Or, well, that’s what the sign says.”

“The—the sign says _ Madame Zerina: appointments pending.” _

“That’s what I said.”

“That’s not—”

“She waits for no man,” Niall insists, curling his hand around Shawn’s.

“She’s right there! Surely she can hold on for a hot second.”

“Nope, the future is upon us. We must know what’s looming.”

“That—sounds really ominous.”

Niall bursts into Madame Zerina’s caravan, flourishing a bit. “Hello! We have an appointment!”

“We do?”

“I’m Niall,” Niall says, plopping into a wooden chair, leaning sideways as it groans slightly. “This is Shawn.”

“Welcome. I am Madame Zerina.”

“We know,” they both say before making amused faces at one another.

“I see.” She nods, her long, dark hair falling over one shoulder as her bracelets clack on her other arm. She shuffles a deck of cards, eyes hooded. “And what would you like to know?”

“I’d like to know our future,” Niall says resolutely, smiling, his hand tapping on his knee.

“You want to know your—” she begins before Niall interrupts.

“Our. Our future.”

“You—” Shawn begins, brows furrowing. “You want to know our future.”

“Well, yeah.”

“I see positive things, to be sure,” Madame Zerina says, floating one hand above the crystal ball in the center of the table. She squints slightly. “Hm.”

“How positive we talking?” Shawn asks, ducking his head, smile playing at his lips.

“Very,” she says, nodding quickly.

“Okay,” Shawn says. “Our future’s positive. That’s nice! I like that.”

“I have another question,” Niall adds, tipping his chair sideways to face Shawn. He holds out one hand, not balking when Shawn frowns. “Would you please take my hand?”

“That—that’s your question?”

Niall sighs, holding out his hand as he waits for Shawn to grab it. “Thank you, and no.” He presses in, cracking one of Shawn’s knuckles. “I was wondering if—if you—”

“Yeah,” Shawn responds, rolling his eyes. “I’ll marry you.”

The lights go out.

Eventually, the lights come back on, and maybe it’s a near thing.

“As it has been written and seen,” Madame Zerina says, waving both her hands in the air, “you two shall be wed.” She points towards Niall, who shrugs, ducking one hand into the pocket of his jeans, ducking over a smile.

“I’d hope so,” Shawn agrees, reaching into the pocket of his coat.

“Wait,” Madame Zerina says, dropping the act. “Are—are you both proposing?”

They both shrug, eyeing one another.

“Shit. Didn’t see that coming.”

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: musiclily


End file.
